When I strike the ground
With my pick axe
The ground does not yield


My strike is weak because
Of heavy weights laid on my shoulders
My strike is weak because
Of competing interests not synced with mine
My strike is weak because
Of my own negligence to prepare

My strength

Back to fundamentals of readiness
Back to fundamentals of discipline
Back to fundamentals of listening
Back to fundamentals of hearing
Back to fundamentals of feeling
Back to fundamentals of looking
Back to fundamentals of seeing

I go

Coming This Winter on the Jerry T Johnson, Writer Blog


Coming This Winter on the Jerry T Johnson, Writer Blog:


Miscellaneous Poetry Posts (including a few repeats from 2016)
New Series: “Reading to the Pots and Pans in My Kitchen” – I will record poetry readings at my home (in my kitchen) and post periodically. Trial run.
More Posts Related to: journal acceptances, open mics, my favorite poetry venues, etc…


February will be my reading period.  Blog posts will only appear once a week during this period.

March – closing out the winter

be on the lookout for more poetry in the month of March.

Reaching a Hilltop

i reached a hilltop today
during my journey
towards dreams realized
during my journey
towards dreams fulfilled

it was a place of reward
for all the hard work
of treading trails led
by visionaries, patriarchs,
and pioneers

it was a place of rest
for strained muscle
a place of escape
for stressed nerves

a relief for all the headaches
a solace for all the heartaches
a band for the breaks
and ice for the burns

it was a cool, calm place
where i wiped away my sweat
a room of silence
where i quieted my fears

a spot caressed by winds
where i soothed my tension
a place warmed by sunlight
where i dried my tears

as i gaze on past paths
i remember friends,
i remember family
some no longer here

i smile as i reflect
on those pleasant times
that helped me through the hard days
year after year

so i stand on this hilltop
and i peer ahead
surveying landscapes
planning paths for tomorrow

off to my next daring pursuit
off to my next phase
off to my next adventure
off to my next dream to fulfill

towards my next hilltop

i will follow

After Losing A Fight

after losing a long, well fought fight
the rain or our pain pelts the pith in our joints
the heat of our hurt melts the grit in the marrow in our bones

the valleys of our battlefields
lay covered with wreckage
our steeds are worn
our banners torn
into the wind our masts flown
and our tears rage
like the charge of rolling rapids
raging in upset rivers

nonetheless, the hardened footsteps
of our tempered feet tend not
towards long retreat
towards our commitment
towards our vision
towards the source of our sore
once the gates are open
we shall return

Notes on Title Fighting

in the middle
of one serious

to my pursuit
of success as i
follow my dreams

i finally stopped crying
i finally stopped complaining
i finally stopped sleeping
i finally stopped stressing …


must change my pace
…in the ring
must step back
lay on the ropes
and let opposition swing

let opposition swing
while i cover my head
let opposition swing
while i take blows to muscle
let opposition swing
while i deflect with strong arms

let opposition swing
while i stay on the ropes

and wait…

for my day, my hour, my minute, my moment, my round